Haunted
by UnOriginalOne
Summary: No matter how far we run, sometimes our past just has a way of catching up with us. Sequel to Never Again. Brennan POV.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Haunted (Title subject to change)

Author: Chickiee-Dee aka Alyce

Rating: I'm gonna go with M

Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em, but I can dream

Summary: No matter how far we run, sometimes our past just has a way of catching up with us. Sequel to Never Again. Brennan POV

Authors Notes: Ok, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but there was a request for more, so I decided to kill some time and give it a go. And this isn't just going to be one-shot…it will be longer, just not sure how long though. Oh and for the record anything in italics is a flashback.

Same warning applies with this fic as the last…may contain scenes involving non-consensual sex, if this makes anyone uncomfortable, I'd advised against reading it.

Finally, I wanna dedicate this to Immy, who got me into Bones in the first place. Enjoy!

Haunted

**Chapter 1**

I stare at the bones set out before me, almost shocked into silence, and that isn't something that happens very often. The skeleton on the table, inches away from where I'm standing are that of one of my many foster mothers…Clarice O'Daley. The bitch who accused me of _wanting_ to sleep with her sleazy ass of a husband. "Bren?" I can hear Angela calling me and I turn to face her "Is something wrong sweetie?" she asks, obviously noticing the tears that are sliding down my cheeks. "I'm fine," I tell her, angrily wiping the tears away and striding off the platform, intent on hiding in my office. I really can't deal with any of this today…actually I never want to deal with it again. My body is long healed after that ordeal but deep down the emotional scars are still there, and something tells me they're all about to be torn open again.

_I pull the coat around me tighter, trying in vain to keep my gangly body warm. I spent almost two hours this morning sorting through my __meagre supply of clothing, trying to find something respectable to wear. Something deep inside told me that he'd get away with it, even though they had the evidence from the Rape kit…I'm a foster kid, and we don't exactly have the best reputation. Detective Helner approaches me, once again reaching out a comforting hand, like she did so many weeks ago when I came into the hospital. "How are you Temperance?" she asks, eying me carefully, concern etched across her features. "I'm fine," I said quietly. That wasn't true. I barely eat and sleep, and the people I'm living with now aren't the nicest that I've ever met. They didn't even bother to come today, I was dropped off at the courthouse while they were on they're way to work, and I guess they expect me to walk home, since they didn't leave me any money to catch a bus home. The look on Helner's face told me that she didn't believe me, and I honestly didn't blame her. We were called into the courthouse and I took my seat next to Peters and Helner, and scanning the small room I spotted him, sitting at the table only a few feet away from me. Seeing him again bought all the memories back again, and they played through my head, my mind creating its own version of what happened when I was unconscious. I can feel the glares of the rest of the O'Daley family, sitting behind Him, and I know they think that I asked for it. That I'm just some slutty foster kid, who sought to ruin their family. _

"Bren? Are you sure you're ok?" Angela, trying again. Gotta give her credit for being persistent. I dabbed at my eyes with the damp tissue that I was holding, and nodded unconvincingly as more tears began their descent. "What's wrong? Sweetie, you need to talk about it." I shook my head vigorously. What happened is in the past, talking about it now won't change a thing about what happened and it won't make the fact that he was never made to pay for violating my body any easier.

"_We the Jury find the defendant not guilty." Not Guilty. The words assaulted me, and my head fell to my hands. They'd all but promised me a conviction, and he was a__llowed to walk away a free man, leaving me to deal with this for the rest of my life. I stood up, running from the court, tears streaming down my cheeks. Some people rose to stop me, but their efforts were futile as took off towards the front doors of the courthouse. I heard some people calling my name but I didn't bother to stop. I just wanted to get out of there, I wanted to go home, and most of all I wanted my family back. I didn't want to be alone anymore._

Angela came back into my office five minutes later, two cups of coffee in hand. "I'm not leaving here until you tell me about it." She said matter-of-factly. Pushing a cup towards me, she gestured to my couch, and I reluctantly followed her. Sipping the hot liquid I sat the cup on the table and turned to face her. I didn't know where to begin, I hadn't told anyone about what had happened, aside from the first foster family I had after the…incident…no one else knew about what I'd been through, and I hoped to keep it that way. "Sweetie," Angela said, noticing my silence.

"I've never told anyone this…" I paused, and Ange grabbed my hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "When I was sixteen, I was in this foster family…the O'Daley's." Her eyes flashed with recognition, "O'Daley, the woman up there?" I nodded. "Is that why?" she asked. I shook my head. "No, so far from it. I'd been there for a few weeks, and I was sort of happy there, they weren't the most horrible people I'd ever met. I was in my bed one night, and out of the blue He came into my room…I pretended I was sleeping…I thought they were just checking to make sure I was asleep. I knew they did that sometimes. Making sure I was behaving myself I guess. This night was different though.

"He came over to my bed, and climbed on me. He held me down and when I struggled he hit me." I pause, wiping at the tears that are streaming full force down my cheeks. "He made me touch him, and when I thought I could get away I tried but he hit me again, I knew what was going to happen…I was knocked unconscious when I struggled and when I woke up he was gone, and I was lying in a pool of blood." I heard Angela gasp and clutch my hand tighter. "I left and walked to the hospital, I don't know how long it took, but I remember collapsing through the front doors and when I was inside they confirmed what I already suspected. He'd raped me while I was unconscious." Angela sat there in stunned silence. Tears were sliding down her own cheeks and she made no attempt to wipe them away. "Who was it?" she whispered.

"Trevor O'Daley, the victim's husband. He was acquitted when the case went to trial. I think he spent twelve hours in jail." I didn't bother trying to stop the tears that were flowing like water from a tap, and I held onto Angela even tighter as she attempted to comfort me. She whispered apologies into my hair as I let out fourteen years of tears on her designer shirt.

A/N: Ok, it's kinda short, but I just wanted to get something laid out and posted. What did people think?? Not too sure when the next update will be done…I'm busy with work for the next couple of weeks and then I'm goin to see my family for three weeks and I don't have the net down there, but if I don't post before I leave, I'll def have something when I get back. Also if anyone else has a suggestion for the title, I'll take ideas, I'm not sure that what I've got fits, but its late and I wanna get this posted. Cheers.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Back from holidays…and still in one piece, sadly for me, I live in Gippsland (for anyone that doesn't know, we had massive ass floods a couple of weeks ago) which meant, I spent almost my entire holidays shut inside to avoid the rain…seriously, five weeks of rain is enough…Anyways, here's the next chapter…enjoy!**

**Chapter 2**

I'm not sure how much time passed as I sat there, enveloped in Angela's arms, but by the time I lifted my head the rest of the lab was quiet, and Ange was looking at me curiously, running her hand over the top of my head, brushing some stray strands of hair out of my eyes. "I'm so sorry Sweetie," she said, her voice soft and reassuring. I nodded my head slightly, trying to prevent anymore tears from falling, although I'm pretty sure that I've cried my yearly quota already today. I push myself back from my position against Angela, and reach for my long abandoned cup of coffee. The icy liquid hits my lips and cascades down my throat, finding it's way into my empty stomach. Shivering slightly, I place the mug back down on the table, making an attempt to get myself up off the couch, my legs aching from being crushed under my weight for so long. I took a minute to get my bearings and went back out to the platform, ignoring Angela's attempts to call me back.

The remains were still where I left them, spread across the cold steel of the exam table. _'I wonder if it was Trevor…'_ I looked over the pile of bones again, looking for anything that I might have missed during my earlier examinations. I snapped a pair of gloves on and picked up her skull, looking over its surface and feeling for any abnormalities. I was so engrossed with my examination that I didn't notice Booth come onto the platform until he was standing beside me. "Hey Bones," he said, not noticing as I jumped back from the table, almost dropping the rib that I held in my hand. "We got an ID yet?" I placed the bone back on the table and turned to him. "Clarice O'Daley," I said, handing him the file that was sitting next to one of the computers behind me. I purposely didn't tell him about my experience with the family. It was hard enough telling Angela about it, and I knew that she wasn't likely to shoot the man if he found out. I wasn't looking forward to the investigation ahead, but nothing would give me more pleasure than locking that bastard up and throwing away the key. While Booth flipped through the file I'd handed him I went back to my examination, turning my attention back to the skull, taking it over to one of the microscopes to look at it more closely. "Cause of death?" Booth asked, coming over to where I was sitting. "Not yet." He came closer to me, his eyes clearly running over my slumped form, "Bones you ok?" I ignored him, not wanting to re-hash everything with him, after I'd just been through it with Angela. "Temperance," he said, his hand reaching around to lift my chin towards him. I tried to resist but in this instance he was too strong, and my eyes reluctantly met his. I felt more tears gathering in the corner of one eye and I attempted to wipe it away subtly hoping that Booth wouldn't notice. He grabbed my hand, holding it firmly in his grip, "Temperance," he repeated, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on my forehead. I leaned into his embrace, resting my head on his chest, relishing in the feel of his arms wrapped around my body. My arms automatically went around his waist, pulling myself further into his embrace. Even though I was certain it wasn't possible, more tears fell, losing themselves amongst the fabric of Booth's dress shirt.

Hours later I finally left the Jeffersonian, Booth in tow, insisting that he stay with me tonight. I'd agreed reluctantly, and now as we meander slowly down the hall towards my apartment I finally admit to myself that I don't really want to be alone tonight, I would much rather have my boyfriend with me. Our fingers are laced together as we approach the door and I slip the key into the lock, turning it and letting the door fall open. I drop my bag beside the door, watching as Booth shuts the door behind us, his arms immediately coming to rest around my waist, and I can feel him press a kiss to the side of my head. After a quick dinner we retreated to the couch, Booth leaning against the arm at one end, my body lying parallel to his, my head resting under his chin, as I breathe in his scent. I close my eyes, taking advantage of the quiet between us to catalogue how much my life has changed over the last couple of months. The fact that Booth and I finally admitted there was more than friendship between us turned my life upside down. Boyfriend and Booth were words that I never thought I use in the same sentence, but right now, I can't imagine not being with him, for all his Alpha-male attributes, he's proven himself to be quite a romantic, as evidenced by our first date ten weeks ago. I feel him tighten his grip and turn my head slightly so I can look into his brown eyes, and I reach up to touch his face, not quite believing that he is really here with me and that he hasn't run for hills yet. "Temperance, what happened today?" he asked quietly, as if he didn't want to break this peaceful silence that had settled around us. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I don't want to talk about it," I said, just as quietly, "I just need more time." I burrowed my head further into his shoulder and drifted off to sleep, safe in his arms.

I woke up early the next morning, still locked in Booth's arms, his warm breath tickling my ear, and I shifted slightly to kiss his chin. "Seeley, time to get up," I said, kissing him again, this time closer to his mouth. He mumbled something unintelligible and I kissed him once more on the forehead before I unlocked his arms from their position on my stomach and stood up, stretching my arms as I attempted to get some feeling back into my right side. Booth's eyes shot open, his hand immediately covering them, rubbing away the remnants of sleep away. "Coffee?" I asked, as I moved in the direction of the kitchen. "Yeah, thanks," he replied, getting up and following my path. "Good morning," he said, turning my head to give me a quick kiss. I pulled away, shoving a cup of coffee in his hands as I sipped at my own, the hot liquid burning my throat. "I'm gonna have a shower," I said, sitting my mug down on the bench, and praying for once that Booth wouldn't follow me. I know that we have to see the O'Daley's today, and I'm not entirely sure that I'm going to be able to deal with having to see that monster again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Another chapter…I'm not entirely sure about this chapter…mostly the way it's formatted, but I wasn't really sure how else I could do it. As always anything in Italics are flashbacks. Kudos to everyone who's left a review…and a big hug to Immy who looked over this for me…now without further ado…**

**Chapter 3**

Booth slowed the car to a stop outside the O'Daley house. Daring to glance out the window I caught a glimpse of the house…

_The car slows to a stop and I look out the window, a large brick house stands a short distance back from the road. The front lawn is cut perfectly, as are the hedges that surround it. I swallow the lump in my throat and tug on the door handle. It clicks open and I step out onto the grass that lines the footpath. My black plastic bag is thrust into my arms before I even have a chance to stretch out my tired limbs. The trip was long, and right now I'm just glad to be here. The lady who escorted me here motions for me to follow her and I do so dutifully, taking a few moments to look over the surrounding street before I followed her up the concrete path to the front door._

…it still looked the same. I don't want to get out of the car and as Booth comes around to open my door, I resign to fact that I'm going to have to face him again. "You coming Bones?" Booth asked, holding his hand out to assist me from the SUV. I step tentatively onto the sidewalk taking Booth's hand in mine as he closes the car door, the shrill beep of the lock filling the air as we walk slowly up the path towards the house. Moments later we climb the front steps, and knock on the door, waiting for a response. A quick glance at the driveway tells us that someone is home, a blue sedan sat dormant on the concrete surface. The door falls open before us and suddenly _he_ is standing before us.

_The large wooden door falls open, revealing a middle aged couple. "Mr. and Mrs. O'Daley?" my escort asks. _

"_Yes, please come in" the woman, who I assume to be Mrs. O'Daley says, gesturing towards what I presume to be a living room. I take the seat that is offered to me and I sit nervously before them, my bag sitting at my feet. I can feel their eyes looking over me, examining every part of me. I feel shy under their scrutiny, and I force a smile, one that's well practised, especially in the last few months. I hear the man ask for my name, and I dutifully provide it. After several minutes my escort stands to leave shaking the hands of the people who are to be my new foster family. _

"Can I help you?" he asks, eyeing us curiously.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth FBI and my associate Dr. Temperance Brennan. Mr. O'Daley?"

"Yes, have you found Clarice?"

"May we come in Mr. O'Daley?" Booth asked, and he gestured for us to come in. Booth made a move to step inside and I remained frozen on the step. Seeing him again was harder than I thought it would be. "Bones come on," he said, taking my hand despite his obvious confusion. I reluctantly followed him inside, taking some comfort from the fact that Booth was with me. I retrace the steps that I took so many years ago, and Booth and I politely accept the seat that is offered to us. My eyes dart around the room, observing the scenery and I vaguely hear Booth speaking to the man sitting opposite us. He's hardly aged since I last saw him, sitting smugly in the court room, listening as the Jury acquitted him of my rape. A small amount of bile rises in my throat, and I swallow it quickly, trying to pay a little attention to the conversation going on between the two men. I can feel his eyes on me and when I look up our eyes meet, and I'm assaulted by memories that I'd long ago repressed. My breath hitches in my throat as I try not to let any tears slide from their ducts. Booth looks over at me, concern etched into his features, I give him a slight smile, indicating that I wanted him to continue with his questions, wanting to get out of that house as soon as possible. Ten minutes later we're both standing, Booth reaching over to shake the Scumbag's hand, and I politely lean over the table, offering him mine before the two of us are outside making our way down the path.

"Bones, you ok?" Booth asks as we climb into the SUV.

"I don't want to talk about it." I told him bluntly hoping that he would drop the topic. No such luck. "Something happened in there, please Temperance, let me help." I shook my head violently. Deep down I wanted to tell him, but I was more than willing to avoid that conversation for as long as was possible. "Booth, I don't want to talk about it…not now…when I'm ready, I'll tell you everything." I looked over at him, my eyes pleading with him to agree, and he slowly nodded, though he looked more than a little pissed off with me.

I walked back into the Lab after Booth dropped me off and was immediately stopped by Angela. "Sweetie, you ok?" she asked, obviously noticing the tears that had once again filled my eyes. I nodded unconvincingly and kept walking, though I could hear Angela's shoes slapping on the ground behind me, indicating she was in hot pursuit. I sped up slightly and practically ran into my office, shutting the door in her face. "Brennan, you need to talk about it…there is no value in bottling everything up…it won't help." I sighed, she had a point, and I motioned for her to come over to the couch, where I'd immediately settled. "We had to go to his house," I whispered, "I had to sit in the same room as him…and…it bought everything back up again," I concluded with a sob. Angela reached out, grabbing my hands and steadying them before I did any damage to myself. "Sweetie, have you told Booth?" I shook my head,

"If I tell Booth…I'm afraid of what he'll do…" Angela nodded, seeming to understand Booth's overprotective streak, and he'd only gotten worse since we started dating.

"It's just not fair," I said suddenly, "He got away with it, he never paid for what he did, and this is something that I'm going to be dealing with for the rest of my life…it never really goes away, and now…today…it was like I was back there again, and I was terrified…I never want to feel like that again." I'd managed to pull one hand free from Angela and I rested my head upon it, my elbow burying itself in my thigh. Ange sat there in total silence as she observed me, and closing my eyes I repeated to myself the mantra that I'd begun so long ago _'It's never going to happen. Not to me. Not if I can do something about it.'_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's read/reviewed so far, and if anyone has any suggestions for improvement feel free to drop us an email or leave a review and I'll take the comments on board and try to improve. **

**Also a warning, this chapter contains some sensitive subject matter (self-harm) and if anyone has a problem with that I'd advise not to read this chapter, as I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable.**

**Not sure when the next chapter will be out…I'm moving in a couple of weeks and there's paperwork and stuff that needs to be sorted out before then so it might be a while. **

**And now without further ado….enjoy!!**

**Chapter 4**

It was late that night when I finally made it back to my apartment. This time however, Booth wasn't with me and I had the luxury of a night to myself. That hadn't happened often since Booth and I had started seeing each other. Dropping my keys on the bench I grabbed a beer from the fridge, popping the top off and sipping at the cold liquid. I pause briefly in the kitchen debating whether or not to eat anything and decide against it, instead I settle on the couch, leaning against one end, my legs stretched out before me. My head falls back of its own accord, coming to rest on the arm and I shift down a little so I'm more comfortable.

_My feet scrape against the concrete as I shuffle slowly down the footpath. I wrap my arms tighter around my small frame trying to will some warmth into my freezing body. The kids around me point and stare as I make my way between the buildings at my new school. It's been six months since I left the O'Daley's and in that time I've been bounced between another five families. The people I'm with now are slightly friendlier than others that I've been with. I don't see the O'Daley's anymore, my case worker suggested that I be moved interstate, and I begrudgingly agreed. I don't enjoy being bounced between schools and the kids that attend this high school are crueller than most. It took them all of three minutes to work out I was in the foster system and they haven't let up their relentless teasing, even after two weeks. I find a spot on the grass and sink to the ground, my body colliding with the hard surface and I throw my books down in front of me, opening my chemistry text to do some revision. Moments later a shadow descends over me and I look up to see a tall figure looming above. He reaches down and grabs the shoulders of my oversized hoody, hauling me roughly to my feet. "Get ya books and get outta here foster kid. You don't belong here." He towers over me my jumper still bunched in his hands, and someone else roughly shoves my books into my hands. "Get lost," he repeats releasing me from his grasp and shoving me away. Surveying the crowd that has gathered I figure there's too many to take on and I turn and walk away, my feet scrapping against the concrete._

Tears slip from my eyes as I recall the high school I was transferred to following the trial. I only stayed there for three weeks, I was caught fighting with the group of kids who'd made it their mission to make my life hell. I was transferred to a school across the city, and subsequently spent much of my day travelling to and from school.

_I wince as the blade slides across my skin leaving a bloody path in its wake. The tears mingle with the blood that's slowly trickling from my thigh and I lift the blade, sliding it across my pale skin again. Switching hands I slide it across my other leg, this time not as deep, though deep enough to allow a small river of blood to ooze out. The pain becomes too much and I cry out, dropping the blade on the bench. My foster mother comes tearing into the room "Oh my God! Temperance what have you done?" she cried out, wrapping a towels around my legs and holding them tight trying to stem the steady flow of blood. "Paul!" she yelled out "Come quick." My foster father is there in seconds, lifting me into his arms and carrying me out to the car. _

_The crisp white sheets remind me of the bed I lay in only months ago. Thick bandages encircle my legs, the doctor's having stitched up the cuts I inflicted on myself. A nurse stands at the foot of my bed, noting her observations on my chart "How are you feeling?" she asks in a sweet voice. I turn my gaze away from hers, finding the blanket that covers my body strangely interesting. "Miss Brennan?" I mumble a response and she leaves, satisfied that at least for the moment I'm not going to try and hurt myself again. "Temperance?" Jackie, my present foster mother says as she comes into the room, Paul in tow. I turn to look at them. They don't deserve any of this, they don't deserve someone who's so screwed up. "Are you ok Sweetie?" she asks gently. I nod miserably wiping the tears from my eyes. "Why?" she questions, sitting on the bed next to me and taking my hand in her own. "I don't want to talk about," I tell her quietly, not wanting to burden such nice people with my problems. The nurse from earlier pokes her head in the room, "I'm sorry, visiting hours are over, you'll have to come back in the morning." Jackie presses a kiss to my forehead and leaves with Paul, "Goodnight Tempe," she tells me, slowly retreating from the grim hospital room. _

Undoing the buckle on my dress pants I pull them down slightly, tracing the faint pink lines that criss cross my thighs. More tears well in my eyes and I wipe them away angrily. If it wasn't for this case then none of this would be coming back, my life would be what it was before, and all of these repressed feelings would've stayed where they were. Repressed. A knock on the door brings me out of my reflective state and I stand up, pulling my pants back up, buckling them as I walk. I open the door without bothering to check through who is on the other side. "Booth," I said not surprised to find him standing in the hall, a box of Wong Foo's balanced under one arm. "Hey, thought you might be hungry," he said, stepping inside, kissing my head softly as he brushed past. My stomach grumbled in response and I went over to where Booth had made himself comfortable on my couch. "Are you ok?" he asked, obviously having noticed the tear stains on my shirt. I didn't say anything in response, "You don't want to talk about it," he said, quoting my earlier remark. I nodded, "I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter," he told me reaching over to squeeze my hand reassuringly.

The leftovers from dinner sit untouched on the coffee table as Booth and I lie together on the couch. His hands are running through my hair as his tongue explores my mouth. I moan softly and press myself against his body, feeling his arousal against my leg. He rolls us slightly so he's on top, and my hands run down the planes of his back, his muscles tensing up my touch. One of his hands shifts from its place in my hair, running down one side of my body, stopping to caress my breast.

_He pulls back the covers and climbs on top of me, sliding his hand under my scrappy t-shirt, grabbing my breast.__ His lips cover mine, his tongue forcing my lips open as he positions himself completely on top of me, rubbing his body along mine. _

My eyes fly open I pull away, recoiling from Booth's tender touch. Logically I know that he's not _him_ but right now the logical part of my brain doesn't seem to want to work. "Bones?" Booth asked, obviously confused.

"I can't," I whispered quietly getting up off the couch and running for the safety of my room, leaving my boyfriend aroused and confused.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Ok, next chapter!! Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, alerted or added this to favourites, that means heaps to me. The next chapter will not be told from Brennan's POV, instead it's being changed to another characters. I'm hoping to have that done in the next couple of weeks. Kudos to Lil who looked over this for me. Love ya!!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 5**

Booth was still asleep on the couch when I left this morning, slipping quietly past his sleeping form. My phone, long ago switched to silent, vibrates across the surface of my desk, breaking my concentration momentarily. I look over at it, the caller id flashing 'Booth' and I leave it to go to voicemail. I know he wants to talk about what happened last night, or the lack thereof, but I can't face him right now. My brain normally so fast at processing information seems to have reached its limits, and I'm unable to form any coherent thoughts about the situation I've found myself in. Flipping open the non-descript file that sits in front of me I attempt to memorise the host of injuries that Clarice O'Daley had suffered and I'm unsurprised to find that there is evidence of past abuse, most likely inflicted by the scum she called her husband. Unceremoniously I drop the file back on the desk flipping it shut as I try in vain to stop images of my assault forming in my head. My head resting in my hands, I don't notice the visitor approaching the glass front of my office. "Temperance Brennan," he says, his voice full of mocking, "Long time no see." I look up and standing before me is the man responsible for the pain that I'm feeling now, and all of a sudden I'm a scared sixteen year old, who wants nothing more than to be in her mothers arms, safe from the evils of the world.

"Not happy to see me I take it," he continues as I try not to cower away in fear. I take a deep breath; I know I'm stronger than this, that I'm not the helpless teen I once was. He took another step towards my desk, and I rise to my feet, attempting to use my height to intimidate the shorter man. I take a moment to properly access him, noting how little he seems to have changed. His hair is greyer and he has put on weight over the past fourteen years but he eyes still have the underlying look of evil that was evident when he pinned me to that bed so long ago.

"Trevor," I said, trying my best to hide the fear in my voice.

"What do you want girlie? Trying to ruin my life with baseless accusations?" I bite my lip as I try to stop a fresh batch of tears falling. He's hit a sore point and he knows it. "Baseless?" I say incredulously, not quite believing his take on events. "You think I wanted to have sex with you while I was unconscious?"

"You were unconscious how do you know what really went on?" he asked tauntingly, clearing knowing that I don't have any real memories of the actual rape, something that I'm incredibly thankful for. His version of foreplay was bad enough I don't think I want to know what 'doing the deed' actually involved, the 'morning after' was painful enough. "It's pretty clear what happened after you knocked me unconscious," I fired back unconvincingly.

"Not clear enough for a Jury." Tears well up in my eyes and this time I'm unable to stop them from falling. I wipe at them angrily, feeling childish for letting this man see me cry. He laughs sadistically knowing he's turned my strong and confident self back into the terrified young woman I was fourteen years ago when I was left in his care. "Their verdict was bullshit and you know it," I yelled finally having gotten over my crying fit, though the tears still stream down my cheeks uncontrollably. "You know _exactly_ what you did to me, and you can't even be a big enough man to admit that you _raped_ a sixteen year old girl who trusted you to look after her." He stares at me, seemingly unsurprised by the reaction he's received. "No, you admit it, you have no idea what the hell happened that night, that's why I was never convicted, you don't have any recollection, and even if you did, you're a foster kid, no one would've believed you."

"Before you beat me around the head, you made it pretty obvious what your intentions were, your hand down my pants…groping me…any idiot could tell that's what that leads too."

"You wanted it…you teased me for weeks, the short shorts, the scrappy clothes…you were asking for it," he said, making some attempt to defend his actions.

"I didn't want it! I didn't walk up to you and say 'I'm hot for you, can you please rape me? Please…I really want it.' Fighting back should have been an indicator…I didn't think you were that thick!"

"Rape?" another male voice asks, "He raped you?" I turn my head in the direction of the voice. Booth is standing there, a look of dead calm on his features. My nod is slight, "Later," I whisper, watching Booth as he steps towards Trevor, his hands balled into fists. Seconds later his fist collides with Trevor's jaw, knocking him off balance. I race round the other side of the desk and grab Booth's arm as he prepares to hit Trevor again. "Booth, don't." Trevor takes this opportunity to scramble away, running from my office while I hold Booth back. "This is what you didn't want to talk about," he says, more a statement than a question. Again I nod, and Booth pulls his arm free from my grip, stalking out of the office, ignoring my cries to come back.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Ok so this took a little longer than expected. I think I said in my notes last time that this chap is told from the POV of another character, ergo Booth is having his chance to tell the story, and it skips back in time a little. Not sure if I really like this, my roommate was gonna read over it but didn't get a chance to so all mistakes and non-sense are all mine. Kudos though to Lil who helped me devise some of this, and as always to Immy who was the one who convinced me to write this in the first place.**

**Finally I dedicate this to my own Bones who turns 3 weeks old today…she's finally starting to grow!!!**

**And a huge shout out to anyone who reads/reviews this story…you guys rock!!!**

**Chapter 6**

"I can't," she whispers, climbing off me and running off towards her bedroom. Groaning I run my hand angrily through my hair and lie back on the couch. I opt against following her, knowing Brennan well enough to know that if I try and follow her she'll shut herself off completely. While I'm not certain of what has upset her, I'm guessing it has something to do with our current case. She was quieter than usual today when we went to speak with the victim's husband, and something about that house almost had her in tears. What I don't know is what has tipped her over the edge, and it's going to drive me insane. I can hear her crying up the hall, and as much as it kills me to stay away I think my presence right now would do more harm than good. I run my hand through my hair, in an attempt to relieve some of the tension that I'm feeling now. Maybe a cold shower would be more effective. I drop my body back onto the couch groaning in frustration. She's never run before, usually Brennan's the one who initiates most of the physical contact between us and she's always a willing participant. I stare longingly towards her door, hoping that she'll come out and explain herself, though I don't really expect that she will.

I wake up the next morning, my neck stiff from the uncomfortable position I slept in the previous night. Sitting up slowly I glance over to Brennan's bedroom. The door is open and she is nowhere in sight. I pick up my cell phone and dial her number, listening to the continuous ring until the voicemail kicked in _'You've reached Dr. Temperance Brennan. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you.'_ I left a brief message and hung up. Gathering my things I left her apartment and went into the office.

A desk full of paperwork greeted me. A stack of files stood in one corner and other papers littered the rest of the surface. Pushing some aside I sat my mug of coffee and opened the file on Clarice O'Daley. The report from the Jeffersonian was stuffed in the front and I scanned it briefly, making mental notes of what I needed to clarify with Bones later. Flipping the page I read over the details from the original missing persons file, once again going through the last known movements of Clarice, she went to the store to pick up some milk and never made it back. Her husband reported her missing a few hours later. Closing the file I threw it back on the pile and picked up my cell phone, dialling Brennan again. No luck, it went straight to voicemail again. Deciding not to leave a message I hung up.

Much of the day passed and after re-interviewing witnesses from the earlier investigation, and more unanswered calls to Bones I decided to head over to the Jeffersonian and see if they had anymore information from Clarice's remains. Walking through the glass doors I took stock of the expansive space before me, scanning the area for a glimpse of Bones. Finding the platform empty I started towards her office. As I approached the door I could hear raised voices, one of them I identified as Brennan's, the other, a male voice, I couldn't pick. The words became clearer the closer I got. "Before you beat me around the head, you made it pretty obvious what your intentions were, your hand down my pants…groping me…any idiot could tell that's what that leads too." I took microseconds to process what I'd heard when the man responded.

"You wanted it…you teased me for weeks, the short shorts, the scrappy clothes…you were asking for it." Silently I stepped into the doorway, identifying the man in the argument as Trevor O'Daley. His retort seems to have angered her more and she yells back, clearly frustrated and angry, "I didn't want it! I didn't walk up to you and say 'I'm hot for you, can you please rape me? Please…I really want it.' Fighting back should have been an indicator…I didn't think you were that thick!" I decided to make my presence known, my own anger rising to the surface. "Rape? He raped you?" I ask, trying to keep my voice level. Her gaze shifts to me and she nods slightly, "Later," she whispers and I step towards the man, my fist colliding with his jaw. I prepare to take another swing when Bones runs from the other side of the desk, "Booth, don't." He scrambles away while I'm distracted leaving me alone with Bones. "This is what you didn't want to talk about." I said, still mentally trying to process everything. She nods and I pull myself free from her grip, stalking out of the office, ignoring her cries for me to come back.

I hightail it out of the Jeffersonian, heading to the SUV. I climb in the driver's seat, pausing while I try to find the right key. A banging sound on the window alerts me to her presence, "Booth, please" she yells continually, her fists colliding with the window, tears streaming down her cheeks. Finally finding the right key I slide it into the ignition, starting the car and throwing it into gear, the tyres screeching as I pulled out of the car park. I look in the rear-view mirror and can see Bones sitting in a crumpled heap on the asphalt. It kills me to see her so broken but right now I can't get past the fact that she kept her rape a secret, especially given the fact that we're investigating the death of the perpetrators wife.

After an hour of driving around aimlessly I pull up in front of the diner. Shutting of the engine I climb out and make my way inside, sliding into an empty booth. A cup of coffee is placed in front of me and I pour sugar into the cup and take a hesitant sip. Scenes are playing on a loop in my head of that man with my Bones. Forcing her to be intimate with him, probably laughing sadistically as she struggled against him. A broken Temperance, much like the one I left in the car park flashes up next, her beautiful face marred by tears and bruises. Her behaviour last night becomes clearer as I remember her recoiling from my touch and I can feel bile rising in my throat. My beautiful Temperance was put through Hell by this man, and now she's being forced to relive it all because a pile of bones that turned up at the lab. Sometime later the seat beside me depresses slightly and I turn to see Bones, her eyes rimmed red and puffy. "I think we need to talk."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I realise that it's been a while. I was at home over the Christmas/New Year break and didn't really spend anytime writing. And since I've been back in Melbourne everything has been hectic trying to get my Uni sorted out for the year (and it's still not done either). **

**Thank you to everyone who has been patient with this, I'm going to try and work on this a little bit more before Uni goes back and as always to Immy who is always awesome (even if we haven't talked properly in ages).**

**Finally (and I'm nearly done) this is for my dearest Squishy dog CJay who we had to put to sleep recently, Sleep peacefully Sweetheart and say Hi to Courtney for us. XXOO**

**Chapter 7**

Quickly I follow Booth from the building, despite my cries he shows no obvious sign that he's going to stop. I chase him out to the SUV banging on the window as he fumbles for the right key. Tears streaming down my cheeks I yell apologies through the glass, begging him to come out and allow me to explain. Intent on shutting me out like I did him, he starts the engine and speeds off as I fall to the ground, my body racked with sobs as I half sit, half lie on the filthy asphalt.

A while later a pair of familiar heels stop in front of me and I look up to see Angela standing above me, her hand stretched out toward me. "Sweetie," she says gently as I slide my hand into hers and she pulls me to my feet. My legs, unwilling to be straightened after so long buckle underneath me and I stumble into Angela almost knocking her to the ground as a fresh batch of tears start falling. Those who are passing by stop to stare as Angela attempts to walk me inside, a task made much more difficult with my extra weight leaning on her shoulder. Somehow we make it to her office and she sits me down, handing me a bottle of water. "Bren, what happened?" she asks, even though I'm sure she saw Booth running away earlier and it doesn't take an idiot to realise that something happened with us. I wipe angrily at the tears, trying to suppress a sniffle, "I was working and He came in. He kept saying that it never happened, that I was asking for it." I take a moment to compose myself again. "Booth overheard us fighting…he knows what happened. He left. God he was so angry." I dab a newly acquired tissue against my tearstained cheeks. "Bren, you need to find him. Explain. Fix it, do whatever you need." I nod miserably. I'm not exactly looking forward to the conversation but I knew everything had to be in the open even if that meant rehashing long suppressed memories.

An hour later I gather up enough courage to attempt to find my long disappeared boyfriend. Taking my car I head off in the direction of the Diner hoping that Booth was there trying to calm down. Pulling up a block away I lock my car, the token beep filling the busy city street. Throwing my bag over my shoulder I slowly make my way through the hundreds of people who are currently filling the sidewalk. Once inside I scan the Diner and see the back of Booth's head, slouched over in a booth by the window. I sit beside him, the seat depressing slightly under my added weight. "I think we need to talk," I say quietly.

"I think that we do," he replies, hesitance evident in his voice.

"Not here," I whisper, knowing this isn't a conversation that will be suitable for such a public place. I slide off the seat and gesture for Booth to follow me. Throwing a bill on the table, he follows me outside. "We'll go to my place," I tell him, turning towards my car.

The key turns in the lock, a distinctive 'snap' filling the air as the lock slips back into the door. I push the door slightly and it falls open. I hear footsteps behind me and I turn around to see Booth coming toward me slowly. I reach my hand out to him and he ignores it, stepping inside the apartment behind me. We each take a seat at opposite ends of the couch, "Well…" He said, gesturing for me to begin.

"When I was sixteen, I lived with the O'Daley's. They were ok people. They gave me somewhere to eat and sleep and I was grateful for it…I'd been there for close to a month when I was in my bed one night and he came in," I swiped at the tears that were falling as the memories were uprooted again, "He came over to the bed and climbed on me. As soon as he pinned me down I had a fair idea of what was going to happen." I watched Booth's reaction and his continuing silence convinced me that I was the one who had to the talking in this instance. "I was knocked unconscious and when I came to he was gone and I was covered in blood. I dragged myself to the nearest hospital and they confirmed what I already knew, he'd raped me," more tears fell as I failed to stem the flow. I shake my head, trying to regain some composure. "Charges were laid and I was taken out the house. I can remember Clarice coming into my hospital room and accusing me of initiating it. She was screaming that her husband would never do anything like that that it must've been my fault because I was a foster kid and that is apparently what we do.

"When it finally went to Court I was living with another family, they didn't care about what was happening…they didn't even stay for the trial, they were too busy with their own lives to give a shit about what I went through. When it was all over the Jury found him not guilty. Apparently the fact that he had money and came from a normal family meant more to them than what I was subjected to." Wiping at the tears that were free falling, I was vaguely aware of a hand coming to rest on my own, squeezing it lightly. Slightly comforted, I continued, "I don't talk about it because it's painful and it's no one else's business. It's over now and there isn't anything that is going to change what happened." Silently Booth continued to run his fingers over my hand gently as I attempted to stem the flow of tears. "I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of my head, "That you had to go through that alone." He paused, barely managing to choke back his own tears and as I reached up to wipe away the tears that had escaped. Sliding my head behind his head I pulled him closer so our heads were resting against one another.

I'm not sure how long we lay there together but sometime later we were disturbed by a knock at the door. Pulling my arms up above my head I stretch out the kinks that have formed in my back. I shuffle slowly towards the door, turning back to find Booth watching me, an adoring look plastered across his face. I give him a small smile and pull the door open. It's Angela. A large pizza box and a six pack of beer balanced in her arms she smiles brightly. "I bought pizza and beer," she states the obvious and I gesture for her to come inside. She makes her way to the lounge and I follow behind, taking my place back on the couch, Booth's arm sliding back around me. "Hey Booth," Angela greets him, passing a beer over to him, "I see you two have sorted everything out then."

"We've talked," I offer, not elaborating. As much as I love Ange, the conversation Booth and I had earlier is between us, and I'd like to keep it that way. There are some things she just doesn't get to know, things that I want to keep in the past where they belong, where I'll never have to think about them again.

**A/N: What did we think?? I'm not to sure about the ending but it does have some meaning in the craziness that is my mind and all will be revealed soon. Thanks for reading. **


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Look at this, this is me studying…at my finest

**A/N: Look at this, this is me studying…at my finest. I started this a while ago but got a little stuck on what was going to happen next. This is kind of a filler, 'cause Bren has one more secret to reveal and it's a doozy. Hopefully should have more done soon-ish but we'll have to wait and see, in the meantime, enjoy! Also this is especially for Immy, who's been sick, but is now living it up overseas. Have a great time Luv and we'll hopefully chat when you get back!!**

**Chapter 8**

I wake early the next morning, Booth's arms wrapped tightly around my middle. I twisted in his arms, dropping a kiss on his chin. "Morning," I whispered, kissing his chin again. Groaning, Booth opened one eye, and then the other, "Morning," he whispered, his voice cracking. Sitting up I broke from his grip, and slide my body over to the side of the bed. My feet hit the cold floor, sending shockwaves up my legs, making me want to climb back into bed and into the safety of my boyfriend's arms. "Coming?" I ask him, holding my hand out. His hand slid into mine and moments later he too had feet firmly on the floor. Together we trudge into the bathroom, stripping down as we go, climbing into the safety of the shower. I adjust the water temperature to scalding hot, water burning my skin, washing away the bad memories from the day before. Tentatively, Booth steps into the stream of water, shifting his body so it was pressed against mine, my head resting over his heart.

An hour later I arrive at the Jeffersonian, making a beeline for my office. Setting my takeaway coffee on the desk I power up the computer, flipping through one of the files that has made itself at home on my desk. "Dr. Brennan," I looked up to see Zach approaching my office. "Are you coming to assist with the examination?" I shook my head, "You can do this one yourself Zach." I held the file up to him. Confused, he reached out to take the file and turned to leave, exiting the office as quickly as he'd entered. As Zach scanned himself onto the platform, Cam appeared in the doorway, knocking lightly on the glass. "Zach said you're excusing yourself from the case."

"I knew the victim, she was my foster mother."

"Do you need time off?" I shook my head vigorously.

"It's ok, I'm going to work." Turning on her heel Cam left quietly, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Tossing my now empty coffee cup into the bin I slid my fingers over the photograph that now lay on my desk. I rarely look at it anymore. The memories it conjures up cause me just as much pain now as they did then. Forcing back tears I hastily gather up the photo and deposit it back into its home in the back of one of drawers.

The rest of my day passed slowly as I sifted through the mountains of paperwork that I found spread throughout my office. Clicking out of the document I was working on I slide my chair away from the desk and stand, stretching out the kinks in my muscles that have developed over the long work day. Late in the afternoon Booth appeared in my doorway, knocking on the glass as he walked in. As he approached my desk I looked up, offering him a smile as he leaned down to press a kiss to my head. "Hi," he whispered quietly. "I missed you today. It's not the same without you."

"I don't want anything to do with it. I can't be around him. It's just…" I trail off, not knowing how exactly to voice my opinion. Booth nods, looking me straight in the eye, "I can't guarantee that what happened between the two of you won't come out during the investigation, but I'll try and keep you out of it." Tears pooled in my eyes at the thought of my past being dragged out into public. Already this case has generated media attention although my withdrawal from the case has not yet been announced and when it goes public the press are sure to be all over it. "You ready to go?" he asks, moving to grab my bag. "Yeah, I think I'm done for the day." I close the windows on my computer and push my chair back, standing and accepting Booth's offered hand. Together we leave my office, passing the others, still working up on the platform.

The next morning I'm greeted by his face, plastered across the front of my morning paper. Scanning the opening stages of the article it's clear that someone's put two and two together, about why I withdrew from the case. Tears well up in my eyes as I take dainty sips from my coffee cup.

'_Forensic Anthropologist Dr. Temperance Brennan yesterday withdrew from the case, citing unexplained personal reasons. Overnight it was discovered that the renowned Anthropologist has a past with the victim and her family. At age sixteen Dr. Brennan was fostered in the O'Daley home for several weeks until she fled, accusing Mr. O'Daley of rape. The case went to trial and he was acquitted of all charges.'_

The bile rose in my throat as I read on through their version of events. Clearly on his side, they labelled the accusations I made as false, stating that I was after money and hoped to sue the family for almost a hundred thousand dollars. They pulled up old records from fourteen years ago, publishing select quotes from them, the basis of their argument being that the O'Daley's volunteered to take me in, and no, a middle class man could never do the things I accused him of. The one that hurt the most was the, if I was unconscious, how could I know what really happened. As much as I wish that I could remember everything, so that maybe he would've been thrown in jail where he belongs, what I do remember is painful enough. The actual sex part, I don't want to remember what he did while he violated my body.

I'm still sitting at the bench when Booth arrives to take me to work. The look on his face tells me that he too, has seen the paper. "They're outside," he informs me quietly.

"I'm not going out there…did you read it? They've twisted so much of it out of proportion. They've taken his side before I've even had a chance to defend myself."

"I know…I know," he whispered, taking me in his strong arms, his chin resting on my head as I cried.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Another update for ya's. Immy requested that she get another chapter when she was in Cambodia, and I'm pretty sure that she's still there, so I'm doin' well. I started this a couple of weeks ago and its been on the backburner while I tried to get all my written assessments done for uni and I'm so happy to announce to the world that I've just handed in my LAST essay for my Arts degree *cheer* but I've still got three exams to go for business. **

**Just to let everyone know, I'm going to be away from the end of November until February. I'm going to the UK to visit friends and then on a lightening tour of Europe with my mate from home. Having said that this is probably going to be the last chapter until I get back. I'll most likely have some time to write but not sure how I'll go with getting it posted, 'cause trusty Fred (my laptop) is staying at Mum's while I'm away. So I'll see ya's all when I get back and in the meantime please R and R, and if there's anything you wanna know about the fic or whatever send me a PM and I'll reply as soon as I can. And if ya interested I'm gonna post a link to my LJ on my profile, which'll have all my antics from my trip posted there. **

**So have an awesome Christmas/New Year, and I'll see ya's all when I get back!!**

**Enjoy!!**

**Chapter 9**

It's almost an hour before Booth is able to convince me to leave the apartment. A small contingent of press is camped out on my front lawn, rushing towards us as we exit the building. Their cameras and microphones waving in my line of vision, I bury my head in Booth's chest as he pushes through the mass of bodies. His SUV is thoughtfully parked next to the curb and I dive in the passenger's side, barely buckled in when Booth jams his foot on the accelerator, the car rocketing forward, leaving the reporters before they've had a chance to get a decent photo.

We face a similar reception at the Jeffersonian, although Security has succeeded in keeping them out of the building. I enter the Lab proper, Booth trailing behind, yelling angrily into his cell phone. Diverting away from the platform, where the rest of the team are assembled, I head for my office, immediately loading up my computer. The break, though unplanned has allowed me extra time to research the lecture which I am scheduled to present in California in three weeks time. It's approaching lunchtime before I put the finishing touches on my presentation, clicking out of the document and heading off to find something to quiet my growling stomach. Angela is coming out of her office, handbag slung over one shoulder as I make my way around the edges of the platform. "Coming for lunch?" she asked, approaching me slowly. I contemplated her request for a minute, not wanting to face the media that was likely still waiting outside the building. After a brief moment of consideration I accept her invitation. "Let me grab my bag." I head back into my office, Angela on my heels. I collect my bag from its spot on the floor, and shove my phone into the pocket, throwing the bag over my shoulder, following Angela to the parking structure.

We pick a quiet restaurant, a twenty minute drive from the Jeffersonian. Thankfully Angela had borrowed Hodgin's car so the press allowed us to slip by unnoticed. "How you going Sweetie?" Angela asked after we'd been seated.

"I want them to leave me alone, my life is my life, it's not up for public debate. They don't have any right."

"We can't really stop them, much as we'd like to," Angela reasoned. Realistically I know she's right but I don't want to believe that these people have the right to dig into my private affairs, and that's what my past with O'Daley is, my private affairs. A bottle of wine is set in front of us, and the waiter dutifully pours it into two glasses, leaving the bottle to rest in the ice bucket that sits to my right. Quietly I ponder the events of the last few days, and seeing him again after so long has undoubtedly stirred up long buried memories. Ange clears her throat, drawing my attention back to her. "Bren?" she asked, a concerned look etched on her face. "I'm fine," I tell her unconvincingly.

"Ok, I know that your not, but I know you don't want to talk about it, so I'll leave it." I smile appreciatively. "How's things going with Booth?" she questioned after a few moments silence.

"He's…I don't know, I've never been with anyone like him before."

"He's not rushing you into anything is he?"

"Not at all, I just haven't had many relationships with men; usually it's just physical, except with Michael. And Sully, and neither of those ended well."

"Booth's different Sweetie, if anyone's not like that, it's Booth, he's really into you Bren." I roll my eyes at her, though I know she's right. He wouldn't put up with my shit if he wasn't at least a little into me, but I don't want to admit that to her. Just like I don't want to admit to her that I already have trouble sleeping when he isn't lying next to me. If I admitted that I'm sure I'd deaf from the squealing.

An hour and a bottle of wine later we leave, retrieving Hodgin's car for the trip back to the Jeffersonian where the press are no doubt still camped out. As we pull into the parking structure I notice the SUV parked in the spot left vacant by my car. Together, Ange and I head inside, passing security on our way into the building. We part with a hug at the door to Angela's office and I continue around the platform to my own office, a pair of familiar feet hanging over the arm of my couch, accompanied by a light snore. I drop my bag on the desk, careful not to wake the sleeping man, and make my way over to him, dropping to my knees next to the head of the couch, leaning forward to cover his mouth with my own. "Hi," I whisper as his eyes flutter open, his arm coming up to caress my head. "Hi," he replies, "Where have you been?"

"Lunch with Angela."

"No press?" I understand his question.

"No press, we took Hodgin's car. You been here long?" He reaches up to wipe the sleep from his eyes, sitting up once his task is complete.

"Half hour I think. I came to see Zach. I had no idea what he said though, lucky Cam was there to translate." The thought of Booth confused at the genius of my colleague bought a smile to my face. "Thought you would have learnt something by now." His face breaks into a smile, "Only with you Bones, you speak translatable Squint." He pulls me off the floor, dragging my body onto his as he lies back down again, our bodies moulding together as our lips meet in a heated kiss. I can feel his hands wandering up my back, his fingers dragging themselves across the planes of my back and up to the clasp on my bra. I tense up as his grip gets tighter, more intimate, and I break then contact, unaware that tears have formed in my eyes. "I'm sorry," I choke out as the tears spill over. I feel stupid; I know that Booth isn't O'Daley, and that he would never purposely hurt me, but the public place and all the memories that have been dredged up make the idea of sex with Booth repulsive to me. The hand from my back comes around to wipe away the tears, his lips coming to rest on my cheek and he pulls me closer, his close proximity reassuring, even though I can sense his frustration, and a the distrusting part of me is sure that our previous sexual relationship won't continue if I can't satisfy him in the bedroom.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Well I'm back, and its been ages since I've looked at or even thought about this. This chapter is kinda shortish but it is leading to something in the next chapter or so, more will be revealed about Brennan's past. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with this while I've been gone, and I'm hoping that I can get this finished by the end of the year, once I've figured out in my brain where this is going. **

**Let me know what you think about this, and as always constructive criticism is welcome. **

**Enjoy!!**

**Chapter 10**

It's late when I arrive home from the lab. After our impromptu moment this afternoon Booth was called back to Headquarters, leaving with a promise to call me when he finished. With no case to work on I headed to Limbo, pulling a crate from the shelves, unloading it on a table in the silent space. After conducting a quick inventory I reloaded the bones and took them upstairs to work on. The platform was silent when I arrived back upstairs, although I could see Angela in her office, typing furiously on her computer keyboard, Hodgins and Zach peering over her shoulders. Scanning onto the platform I placed the crate on a spare exam table, laying out the bones anatomically and pulling out a fresh sheet of paper to record my observations about the person. By the time I finished working with the remains the lab was silent. A quick glance at my watch told me it was almost midnight, so I packed up for the night, hailing a taxi to take me home through the deserted streets of DC.

The tribe of reporters from this morning have packed up and I'm able to make it inside my apartment building without being accosted by anyone looking for a story. Not bothering to shower, I throw myself into bed, stretching out over the covers, still fully clothed, falling into an exhausted sleep.

The next morning I wake early, my limbs tangled in the material of my skirt from the previous day. Still half asleep I pull myself up from the bed, trudging to the bathroom, sleepily discarding my clothes as I walk. As I wash the stress of the previous day away, I take stock of the magnitude of the situation and silently hope that the mass of reporters haven't gathered on my lawn, without Booth here to drive me, I have to face them myself, something that I'm not looking forward to in the least. I remain under the steady stream until the water slowly begins to cool, and I realise that I haven't yet washed my sticky skin. Braving the considerably cooler water, I quickly scrub my skin, rinsing the soap away and stepping out, water falling off my body onto the tiled floor of my bathroom. Slowly I towel myself dry, wrapping the material around my body for the short walk to my wardrobe. Absentmindedly I select something to wear, throwing it on and tying my wet hair back from my face. Breakfast is unappealing to my stomach so I gather my keys, throwing an apple into my handbag as I make my way out of the space and towards my car.

This morning there's a much smaller contingent of reporters gathered on my lawn, I only manage to count three or four with their cameramen as I stealthily leave the parking garage. My exit goes unnoticed and I speed off towards the Jeffersonian, hopeful that there to will be a smaller group of reporters, leaving me in peace, although logically I know that until they get a comment from me, or someone close to me, then they are not likely to leave any of us alone, at least until the next big story breaks in D.C.

All is quiet at the lab as I enter. A quick survey of the area reveals that everyone is gathered in Angela's office, all around the Angelator, the golden streams indicating that it is operational, and their running through scenarios of the crime. Ignoring the urge I feel to assist, I walk towards my office, loading up my computer, and methodically stacking the files I pulled from storage yesterday. Once again settling myself in front of the computer I wait as my email inbox opens, scanning the contents as they load. Unsurprisingly there are several emails from journalists, all offering generous sums of money for the exclusive rights to my response to the media circus of the past few days. I delete them without a second thought and move onto the email from California, confirming that despite the press they would still like me to guest lecture. I type a quick response, thanking them again for the invitation, and am immersed in an email from Russ when everyone emerges from Angela's office. Booth's voice is the loudest, and from the direction that his voice is carrying I assume that he is on his way to my office. I'm not disappointed when his tall form appears in my doorway less than a minute later. "Hey," he says, hesitating slightly before entering. I offer a slight smile, returning his greeting as I stand, gesturing him towards the couch. As I approach him, his hand reaches for mine, pulling me gently towards him, as he kisses my cheek lightly. Involuntarily tears form in my eyes. He reaches up to wipe them away. Honestly I have no idea what I have done to deserve someone as generous and caring as him, and the insecure part of me still thinks, despite all the evidence to the contrary that he is only bothering with me because Angela is taken by Hodgins. The logical side of my brain slaps the insecurity away, but deep down I know it is buried somewhere in there, most probably down with the memories that I hold of _that _night. I pull him to me, needing to feel close to him, my head resting on his shoulder as I try desperately to quash my emotions, locking them away until I'm alone, and I feel I can really let myself feel them.

We stand there until our feet scream out in agony, and Booth sadly announces that he has to go interview a suspect. "I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'll be back later. I promise." He presses another kiss to my forehead and I loosen my grip, allowing him to slip away. Alone again, I approach my desk, dropping my body onto the seat, my feet catching the floor as it slides backwards. I reach for the draw to my right, lifting the contents to find what I'm searching for. Its getting old now, the paper curling at the edges as I trace the image, tears falling slowly from my eyes as the emotion wells up once again. The events of recent days have bought the pain back to the surface and I know that like the rape, this too will be dragged up from the past, to torture me all over again.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I'M BACK!!! You know I actually don't remember the last time I updated this, cept I know it was ages ago. I'm super slack and I apologise. This chapter (almost in its entirety) has been sitting on my hard drive for months waiting to be finished and posted. Originally it was supposed to be longer, but I've decided to split it in 2 so that you guys can have something :) **

**ALSO I'VE CHANGED MY USERNAME, SORRY IT THAT CONFUSES ANYONE. NOT MY INTENTION.**

**Happy Belated Birthday to Immy, hopefully I'll be over in NZ in the next couple of months for a visit. Much love.**

**Anyways, let me know what you think, good, bad or otherwise, and even if you haven't reviewed before I'd love to hear from you.**

**Chapter 11**

"_Congratulations," the woman before me says, reading off the piece of paper clutched in her hand, "You're eight weeks pregnant." I fight back a sob. The bruises that he inflicted are finally fading, the physical evidence of my ordeal disappearing, though the emotional wounds are still very fresh. The trial hasn't started yet, and I'm trying to move on with my miserable existence, and frankly this is the last thing I need. A child. I'm really still one myself, and this most definitely was not something that I planned. The woman continues talking, though I tune out her words while I battle with the news that I never thought I would hear. "There's some information here that I can give you if that helps, it explains all your options." I nod, not trusting myself to answer. I watch as she scribbles some notes down on a page and hands a pile of paper over to me. "I want you to make an appointment for next week for an ultrasound, to make sure everything is progressing normally. You'll also need to make any decisions about whether you want to keep the baby or not in the next month." _

"_Thank you," I whisper quietly, taking the paper from her and slinking out of the office. I stop briefly at the desk to make an appointment for next week and taking the card from the receptionist I walk out of the sterile building. _

_A week later I'm not closer to making a decision about what I'm planning to do with the unwanted life growing inside my womb. I haven't told my foster parents about the baby, I'm afraid of what they might say. They know the vague background of what I've been through, but I haven't shared any of the finer details with them, frankly I don't trust them enough and I have no doubt that that is a side effect of my experience. At night I sleep with a doorstop under my door, effectively locking myself in while I struggle to rest. The pamphlets that the Doctor gave me last week have been shoved into a small box that I've accumulated in the past few weeks. I sit nervously in the waiting room, my full bladder making the wait even more uncomfortable. "Temperance Brennan?" a bright young girl calls for me and I awkwardly stand up, trying not to upset my overloaded bladder. Tentatively I follow the young woman into an exam room where she gestures for me to climb onto the bed in the centre of the room. "Doctor James will be here in a minute, I just need to check a few things before she arrives. Is there anyone you want here with you?"_

"_No I'm alone." The Doctor enters the room, flipping through the pages in my file, _

"_How are you today Temperance?"_

"_A little nauseous but otherwise I'm ok." She nods._

"_Well your blood pressure is normal, and the bloods that we took last week all came back normal. Today we're going to perform an ultrasound and check that everything is progressing as it should. Have you made any decisions about what you're going to do with the baby?"_

"_I'm still not sure, but I've got a little time, don't I?" _

"_A couple of weeks, after that termination will become more difficult." She lifts my shirt up, exposing my flat stomach, still slightly dotted with fading bruises, "This is going to be a little cold," she gestures to the tube of jelly that she squeezes onto my skin. I wince a little, the temperature is much colder than I expected, and I turn slightly to face the black screen opposite me as the wand is lowered onto the now jelly covered surface. A soft thumping sound fills the room and a fuzzy image appears on the screen. Dr. James takes several measurements nodding to herself as she marks observations on the paper next to her. "Ok," she says, shifting the wand slightly, "It might be a little hard to see, but there is your baby," she gestures to the middle of the screen where a small blob is visible, pulsating in time to with the noise. I can't help but smile as I see my unborn child for the first time. Dr. James finishes her examination and prints a picture for me to take home. My stomach cleaned off, I push my shirt back down to cover the skin and sit up. "Everything so far is normal, the baby's size is consistent with the date of conception that you mentioned. I understand that you may not want to keep this child given your circumstances, but before you make a decision if there is anything that I can do to assist you, please call and I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have."_

"_Thank you," I reply, still looking at the photo she printed for me. I stand to leave, stopping at reception to fill out the relevant paperwork before I walk from the clinic and onto the crowded street outside. _

_Gargling the water in my mouth I attempt to wash the taste of vomit away. Not for the first time this morning I find myself here in the bathroom trying to expel the foul taste from my mouth after losing the meagre contents of my stomach in the toilet bowl. "Temperance, are you ok?" a voice calls from the hall._

"_I'm fine," I yell back, running my hand across my flat stomach. Straightening my appearance I step out of the bathroom, giving my foster sister a smile as I rush past. I haven't told them about the baby yet; I want to make a decision before I announce anything but given my morning habits of late I think they'll figure it out soon. Kelly is waiting in the hall, watching me as I approach. "Are you sure you're ok Tempe? You were in there a while."_

"_I'm fine Kel, just a bug. I'll be fine." _

"_Ok, but we've gotta go to school, so you better get dressed." I look down at my raggy pyjamas and rush off to my room. Rummaging through the pile of clothes on the floor I pick up my skirt, pulling it up to cover my pale thighs. I find a clean shirt and throw it over my shoulders, hastily buttoning it as I search for the remainder of my uniform. White socks, my tie, a jumper and my bag located I slam the door as I run down the stairs and into the kitchen where Kelly is waiting. "Come on Tempe, we're going to miss the bus." Slipping my shoes and socks on I follow Kelly out the door. By the time we arrive at school I've managed to tie my tie, and have hastily thrown my jumper into my bag. The sun is beading down on lawns as I step onto the grounds and into the midst of the hundreds of students arriving._

_Midway through the fourth hour of my day I've made my decision. Despite the circumstances, I've decided to keep my child. Thoughts of being a teenage mother flood my head, I'll have to find a job and a place to live, surely no foster family will want me once they find out about my impending arrival. My hand rests on the non existent curve of my stomach, and I rub it soothingly, partly to ease the nausea that is still hanging around, but mostly the gesture is intended to soothe the blob that in a few short months will emerge from the safety of my womb. Satisfied that I've made my choice, I turn my attention back to the teacher who's discussing the importance of safe sex. Great. How appropriate. _

_* * *_

_Four weeks later I'm back in the Doctors office. My stomach has started to swell, and a small bump is visible to those who look hard enough. The jelly is cold on my stomach as Doctor James uses the wand to spread it across my pale skin. A distinct thumping sound fills the room as a slightly larger blob appears on the screen, the body shape more distinctive than the imaging from last month. "Ok, Temperance, everything looks good. Have you told your parents yet?" _

"_It's kind of awkward," I tell her, not wanting to elaborate._

"_How so?"_

"_I'm in foster care, I'm certain that my foster parents won't want me in the house with a child. They barely want me there now. I just need to save some money so I can get my own place."_

"_What about the baby's father?" A single tear escapes at the mention of bub's father._

"_He's not in the picture," I tell her, hoping she will drop it._

"_Temperance, he needs to know."_

"_No he doesn't," I respond forcefully, "He was one of my foster fathers, he raped me. He's not having anything to do with this child."_

"_Oh m gosh, Temperance, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to pry." I shrug,_

"_You didn't know, it's not your fault." I allow the older woman to wrap her arms around me, although I think he gesture is meant to comfort her more than me, before I slip from her grasp and exit the room._


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's another chapter for ya. This was going to be split into two, but I decided that I should make it into one chapter. Let me know what you think, good, bad or otherwise. **

**For Immy…since I promised…**

**Chapter 12**

"_This is awkward," I start. Two weeks have passed since my last Doctor's appointment and I've decided to tell my Foster parents about the baby. "I'm fifteen weeks pregnant," I tell them. Best to pull off the band aid. Kelly shifts her position behind me, reaching forward to grab my hand. Last night I told her about the baby, and she promised to support me, even if her parents didn't. Shock is plastered all over their faces. I have a vague idea of how they're feeling. I was shocked when I found out, but I've had a few weeks to deal with it now. "Well Tempe," Amber says, pausing, as if she doesn't know what to say. "What are you going to do? Are you going to keep the baby?" she asks, reaching across to grab my hand and squeeze it reassuringly. _

"_I don't know," I admit quietly, "I don't want a part of him inside me, but I don't think I could give my baby up. I know how hard it is being in the system, and I don't want that for my child." As I speak, I rub circles on the slight mound that has formed on my front. "If you want me gone, I'll understand," I say, getting up from the couch, walking from the room towards the bedroom I currently call my own. Shutting the door after I enter I flop onto the bed, grabbing the Ultrasound picture out from its place in my bedside drawer. Tracing the outline of my baby, tears begin to form in my eyes. There's a knock on the door and Amber opens the door, stepping into the room and coming over to sit next to me on the bed. She grabs my hand, squeezing it lightly. "Tempe, I'm not going to lie to you, this has come as a shock to us," she pauses, her eyes sweeping over my slightly rounded belly, "But I want you to know, that whatever you decide, you have our full support. We'd love to have you stay with us as long as you need." Salty tears slide down my cheeks and I throw myself into her arms. "Thank you," I whisper, gripping my foster mother tightly. _

_Twelve weeks later:_

_Groaning in frustration I attempt to pull my school jumper down over my expanded stomach. Three months after telling my Foster family about my pregnancy I'm no closer to deciding what I'm going to do with my child when it makes its appearance in roughly thirteen weeks time. So far my pregnancy has been textbook; at least that's what my Doctor tells me. My ever-growing belly has attracted much attention at school and Kelly has been such a massive support. The constant stares and whispers of the other kids at school has started to get to me in recent weeks. It wasn't too bad until my pregnancy became obvious. The telltale signs appeared in the weeks after I told Amber and her husband. My school uniforms started getting tighter around my middle; the waistband of my skirt began digging into the soft skin on my hips. Now, at twenty-seven weeks pregnant I can only just fit into the largest sized school uniforms. In the next couple of weeks I'll finish up at school and work from home, despite this pregnancy I still want to keep studying, I don't want this child, whether I keep it or not, to disrupt my life any more than it has already. Finally getting the stubborn material over the mound of baby I grab my school bag off the bed and waddle out the door towards the top of the stairs. Descending slowly I drop my bag on the table and head into the kitchen to grab breakfast. Kelly is already there, toast in one hand, steaming mug of coffee in the other, "Morning Tempe." _

"_Hey Kel," I reply, shifting around behind the counter to locate a bowl for some cereal. "How you feeling?"_

"_Not too bad, my back is killing me though, but I expect that now." I pour a bowl of muesli, dumping some yoghurt on the pile and mixing it thoroughly. I throw some chocolate chips into the mix and grab the pickle jar from the fridge. "Tempe, don't tell me you're going to put pickles on that mess? That's just disgusting."_

"_No judgement. It's the baby," I say, grabbing a pickle from the jar and taking a big bite. _

"_I don't care what you're excuse is, it's still gross." I flip her off, taking my bowl and my pickle jar over to the table. Shaking her head, Kelly joins me, screwing her nose up as I reach for another pickle. "Seriously Kel, geez, wait til you're pregnant, you'll love the pickles too."_

"_Never gonna happen Temperance Brennan." Shaking my head, I concentrate on finishing my breakfast, almost ready to endure another day at school._

_Later that morning I'm sorting through my locker, attempting to locate my Chemistry textbook when a fight breaks out in the hall. It starts with some yelling and then the smaller of the two throws a punch, missing the taller one's face by less than an inch. The smaller guy is quickly tossed to the ground, a boot hitting his abdomen continuously as he curls himself into a ball, trying to protect his small body from the onslaught. Plucking up some courage he manages to get himself to his feet as a crowd gathers in the hall. On his feet once more he lunges at the taller boy, colliding with his chest as he pushes him to the ground, fists rhymically hitting the broad chest of his opponent. Rolling around on the floor they each struggle to gain the upper hand and students clear the hall as their bodies make their way across the linoleum. Distracted by the cheers and calls of other students, who have quickly taken sides in this display of testosterone, I don't notice them approach me. The taller one is almost on his feet again as they approach my position and the smaller one scrambles up taking aim and running at the taller boy once again. They slam into me before I'm aware of what is happening. My large body hits the lockers with a definite thud as I fall to the ground, sharp pains radiating through my stomach as my body hits the cheap flooring. A scream rips from my lips and it's enough to jolt the two boys from their fight as they rush over to my side. The pain coursing through my body is unbearable and tears begin to slide from their ducts even as I will them to stop. Suddenly Kelly appears at my side, phone attached to one ear as she speaks into it. I catch the occasional word and from that I hypothesise that she is speaking to a 911 operator, ordering an Ambulance I can't afford to be dispatched to the school. Despite the pain I attempt to lift my body up from the floor and as I carefully slide myself upright I notice a small puddle of blood between my legs. I scream again, partially for the pain I am in, but mostly for the possibility that something could be very wrong with my child. It seems like hours before the Principal arrives, clearing the mass of students who are blocking the corridor. "What happened here?" she asked, looking pointedly at the two boys who by now are standing off to one side, guilt etched on their faces. Neither offer an explanation and she orders them both to her office, instructing them to wait for her return. The rest of the students are sent to their next class, bar Kelly, who is busy wiping away tears of her own and attempting to reassure me that everything is fine. I know it's not, but I appreciate her effort nonetheless. The paramedics arrive, dropping next to me, hurriedly attaching monitors to my body and slipping a blood pressure cuff around my upper arm. Over my slumped form they ask Kelly what seems like dozens of questions, which she answers calmly, before they load me onto the stretcher, wheeling me out into the Ambulance, slamming the back door as they speed towards the hospital._

_Forty minutes later I'm lying on my side, my body curled in a ball as I attempt to alleviate the pain that is coursing through my abdomen. As soon as I was wheeled into the hospital I was admitted, the token hospital bracelet fastened around my wrist, an IV line inserted in the back of my right hand. Five minutes ago a Doctor came in, grimly telling me that I was in labour, and they wouldn't be able to stop it. So at only twenty-seven weeks it seems that I'm about to come a mother. The physical pain I'm currently feeling is nothing compared to the internal fear that is gripping me. Tears slide down my cheeks as I realise that I have yet to decide about whether I'm going to keep this child. As another contraction hits, my second in fifteen minutes, I grip the sheet beneath me in frustration. I've never felt pain like this before, and my loud scream resonates throughout the room as more tears stream down my face. _

_Six hours later I collapse on the bed, my body falling back against the sheets as a tiny baby is finally ejected from my body. Breathing heavily, I look up, noticing the Doctors and nurses huddled over a table across the other side of the room. I only catch a few words, not enough to gain any sense from what is happening. As they speak to each other in hushed tones, I notice the absence of a crying infant. I had yet to hear my child cry, and now I was getting scared. While I still tried to make sense of what was happening, I was wheeled out of the delivery room and away from my child. I was settled back into the room where I placed when I first arrived. Fifteen minutes later my Doctor walked into the room, a grim look on his face. "Temperance, I'm so sorry." I looked up, confused, tears rolling down my cheeks that had nothing to do with the physical pain I was still feeling. _

"_Your daughter. She didn't make it. It seems she had a heart defect that wasn't picked up on Ultrasound. She was stillborn. I'm so sorry." Tears fall rapidly as I pull my exhausted body up into a ball, shaking my head as I cry. I look up and see a tearful Kelly coming into the room. She threw herself at me, both of us crying together as we grieve the loss of the child we never had a chance to know. _


End file.
